I am a small brown bear
.... navigator, tissue-issuer, steely eyed spy,
football fan and Agony Uncle! Now that you've found me, sit back, relax, sip some tea and dunk a biscuit, and let some Bearissity into your tortured life. Ahhhh. See, better already, isn't it?

WARNING: This blog is ritten in Bear English, wich is phonetic. An that is mor than yu can say abowt the werd "phonetic".

Gillingham beat Chesterfield yestaday (full name Festering Mess in a Chilly Field) by one goal to nothing. Take that! Ha! An we even used wun of our smallest players. That's how great we are.

Meanwhile, I chose the winning horse in the Grand Nashional, at 40-1, which means that Daddy owes me 40 choklit peanuts. He's been hiding ever since. HIS horse fell at the first fence. He rekons it was a fix, but if he had chosen a horse whose rider wore Gillingham colours, he'd hav won like me. So there. As I keep saying, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty.

I noticed that there were several horsies running along with no rider at all. The jockeys had thort better of it at some stage, an jumped off. But the horsies kept going, sum of them even in the lead for a while, jumping over the fences with no trubbol at all. Wich sort of leeds me to arsk the question, what do the jockeys akchewally do? The horsies don't seem to need them. I put this to Daddy, but he sed, if NONE of them had jockeys on them, they wouldn't do enything, they'd just hang around eating grass.

But I'm OK with that. I'd enjoy watching a load of horsies just hanging out in a field eating grass, anyday. It wud be nice an relaxing. An yu could still bet on them, like, wich wun would be the first to do a poo, or wich wun would get the most flies on his eyebrows.

I think the horsies wud enjoy it mor. An the jockeys can all change out of their silly silky sissy stuff, go up the pub for a pint an sum Cornish Pasties, and put a bit of weight on. Then they could start to play a proper sport. Like football.

All wud come right in the end, yu see. Yu jus need a bit of imagination.

My youngest was one player short on Saturday, do you think you might like to join her football team? You get LOADS of choccie bisciuts at half-time, and it'll be MUCH more interesting than watching your team, 'cos they always let in, and score, HUNDREDS of goals..

Watch footie on the internet:

Thank you for your visit. Bob's off for a dam' good frolic now:

A note on "Bear English"

Some people have written to me to say that they can't read my blogs cos ov my Bear English. We do spell some things differently, mostly phonetically. Sorry. We also say 'der' for 'the' and 'dat' for 'that'. To try to make it easier for you, I am now trying to remember to use "th" insted. But my oldest posts will stay mostly in the original Bear English.... Please "BEAR" wiv me. If you can't read me, please come back wiv a good strong cup ov tea an a choklit biskit, an try den! I mean THen!
(It's the polar bear influence, you see, because in Icelandic the 'th' sound is spelt with a 'd'.)